Post by Jax on Apr 11, 2017 1:26:59 GMT
(OFF CAMERA: 04-04-2017 (EARLY AFTERNOON))
Nessa nervously picked at the label on the bottle of water while the cab idled at the curb outside Matt Stone's hotel. If she kept it up, he'd see right through whatever expression she tried to paste on. He'd know something was up, that something was bothering her but Nessa knew she'd have to spill the beans sooner rather than later since that ticket was waiting at the box office for tonight's show under the name of her special guest. Looking up, she sighed with relief as she spotted him coming out the doors, feeling that familiar comfort at the sight of him clashing with the anxiety turning her stomach into knots.
Matt slid into the cab, the driver already heading off to the arena now knowing his destination. Matt glanced over at Nessa and gave a quick "sorry" for his delay before turning back to the car door, using the reflection in the window to make sure his hair was just right. "For some reason I forgot to bring my hairdryer with me and now I just can't seem to get the right amount of poof in my bangs. I tell you, it's been a nightmare!"
Nessa laughed, shaking her head as she watched him preen, finding it easier to focus on his appearance than coming clean. "Really? It looks fine, I think."
"Of course it looks fine to you, look how you rolled out of the bed and just got in the car, some of us still care about how we look." He took a pause, running his forefinger through the front of his hair and smiling. "There we go, juuuuuust right."
Frowning, Nessa looked at herself in the glass before fluffing her hair with her hands. "I showered. See? My hair's still damp at the back!"
"Yes yes, how cute. I'd lend you my hairdryer but alas, I don't have it." He turns back out to the window, this time just watching the sights go by as they ventured towards the arena, seeing all the people going about their regular activities, oblivious to the fact that they could have spotted pure greatness passing them by in this car. The very thought brought a smirk to his lips. "So are you ready?"
"Do I lose coolness points if I say no?" She countered his question, sighing before looking down at her lap. "No pressure or anything, right? Melbourne doesn't matter anymore."
"I'm not convinced it ever did. I don't know about you, but I was more experimenting than anything else down there. Questions for Stone? Why the fuck would I care what people want to know? I think the only reason I went there was because I was somehow being drawn to you, now look at us. Sharing the backseat of a cab going to your big debut in Phoenix Wrestling. So I guess everything worked out."
"Drawn to me?" Nessa's gaze snapped back to him, "of course. That had to be it. The fates pushing us together for one last hurrah. Or maybe they just wanted you to knock some sense into Shawn?"
"Well anyone could have done that, really. Man's a bit of a nut, isn't he? I mean, who mistakes their girlfriend fleeing the continent as a slight at them?" he asks, looking over at Nessa with a hint of a smile.
"You wouldn't have." Nessa countered, "you'd probably have celebrated the couple weeks of peace of quiet. All that time to watch football 24/7 in your underwear. Sounds like paradise."
"Dear God, no. It was a nightmare trying to watch football over there, geez. It's like, hello Australia, no one cares about your stupid animal hunting and soccer, show a real sport. Good thing I'm not into hockey or I would have lost my mind trying to find it."
"And where would we be if your mind was gone?" She looked out the window, realizing they were only a few blocks from the arena now. "So, I need to tell you something."
"Oh?" he asked, looking slightly more interested. "If it's I was right about something, I prefer you wait till we get to the arena and like, get down on your knees and look up at me when you say it, I feel that's the best presentation for that revelation."
"Well, no. I mean, you're probably right about a lot of things but that wasn't…" Nessa paused, glancing at him and then away again, "I have a guest coming to watch the show." When he said nothing, she kept going, "remember Brie? The one who thought your name was Cam? Well, her brother Michel will be here tonight and I thought you should know so it's not awkward or weird."
"Oh yes, the lady who was offended that I suggested she would lose to you, which was the very question being posed at the time as I recall. Smart lady, that one." he rolled his eyes, remembering the sheer stupidity he witnessed last week. "Why would her brother being there be weird? Then again, why would he be there at all?"
"He's there because, well, we've been spending some time together recently. And he enjoys my company." She really, really didn't want to put a label on it, hoping that he'd get what she was trying to say without making her say it.
"Wait…" He started, turning to her and getting all serious face. "You've been spending time with someone who shares the same basic genetic makeup as Brie? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"He's really not all that bad." Nessa's cheeks were turning red as she looked down at her lap, "he's a pilot. Flies this little commercial plane and it's kinda nice to hang out with someone not connected to this crazy business every once in awhile, you know?"
"No really." He said flatly, realizing that he really didn't communicate with anyone outside the business at all. "Although I will say, I'm glad that you finally found someone who's really not all that bad. With such a rousing endorsement from you, he must be wicked in the sack." He finished, the venom almost dripping off his tongue.
"I haven't," Nessa actually stammered, shaking her head, "I wouldn't know. It's not like that, Matthew. Sometimes it's nice to have a person who always goes out of their way to make you feel special and he's been chasing me for years. It's time I let him catch up for a little while."
"Oh, years, has he? Sorry, I didn't realize you had such a long-standing relationship with this person; I'll try and be on my best behavior, then. Wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea about us, would we?"
She closed her eyes, counted to ten until she didn't feel like strangling him. "I knew you'd understand. You're such a great friend, after all."
"Stop the car." Matt instructed, the taxi driver pulling over on the side. "Just to be safe, then, I'll walk the rest of the way, just in case he's waiting for you at the door, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, Matt opened the door and got out, closing the door rather swiftly behind him, not even looking back at his tag team partner.
"That's not…" Nessa sighed, watching him walk away before the cab pulled away from the curb. "You can take me around back," she instructed, trying to convince herself not to read too much into what had just happened. There was no way Matt Stone would be jealous of anyone, let alone Michel Artois.
(OFF CAMERA: 04-04-2017 (MID-REDEMPTION))
The match adrenaline was starting to fade, making her feel woozy and vaguely sick as she stormed away from Stone the moment they passed the curtain. She didn't bother to read him the riot act. Sure, he'd helped her even the numbers game, but if it hadn't been for his big mouth, she'd probably have beaten Frankie Starlight in a matter of minutes. Instead she had a debut loss hanging over her head now thanks to that ludicrous disqualification and now even the prospect of facing her biggest fan couldn't bring a smile to her face.
The door slammed against the wall as she shoved it open, making her flinch, blushing slightly as a sigh left her lips. "Please don't say anything about what just happened," were the first words out of her mouth as her eyes met those of the most handsome Artois brother. "I don't want to even think about it right now."
"Baby, I won't say a word. I know how much this meant to you and it hurt me to see it go otherwise. But don't feel bad," the way he said it sent her across the room into his arms. "Things don't always happen for the best when you want them but they will in time," his smile was as kind as his words when he embraced her. "Just sit down. Relax – I know what to do."
"Okay," Nessa echoed, melting against him, "I think I'm definitely due for a little bit of that." The words held a little bitterness but her smile when she looked up at him was genuine. "Maybe I should get out of this sweaty gear first?"
Michel's eyes lit up as he stepped back, reluctantly releasing her. "I have a better idea," he produced a folding massage table. "I took the liberty of taking it with me on the plane." He grinned in that boyish manner of his, gesturing grandly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give you a massage."
"Well, when you put it like that... how could I refuse?" He'd bragged about his talented hands and with the loss weighing her down, she wasn't about to turn down any attention, let alone his.
"Good… good. Just sit back; lie down, love. I'll try and do my best." Michel nodded again. He knew exactly what she needed and deserved – his training would pay off in spades.
Following his instructions, she sat down on the table, looking up at him expectantly. "Face up or down? Where are you starting?"
"Face up," he watched her, his heart pounding a bit faster. "I'll start with your legs," and with that Michel bent down and gently took Nessa's right leg and slowly unfastened her knee pad, placing it on the floor. He removed her left knee pad and placed it with the other, smiling as he moved on to her kick pads. He then moved to her sneakers and slowly undid her laces, moving from right to left again before placing both by her gear bag. Her nylon-clad feet were revealed and Michel teased her by running a forefinger down the sole of her foot. She shivered, giggling softly.
He then moved to her ear, pushed past her hair and whispered, "mon passion. Il brûle pour toi seulement." Her French was rusty but she got the gist of it as he withdrew, taking a towel and placing it over his shoulder. Gently, he removed her top and quickly placed the towel over her bare chest for modesty. He paused then took hold of her metallic pink shorts and slid them off Nessa's shapely body, exposing the black thong under her sheer nylons.
Nessa closed her eyes, feeling her pulse quicken a little at his words, that sexy hint of a French accent there that only a true Quebecois native could manage. "Do whatever you want," she whispered, "I trust you completely."
Michel's heart pounded. He surveyed the Canadian Goddess, knowing that he was enjoying a rare moment that many men would be dying to witness. He felt overwhelmed by emotion, swept up by her beauty. He surveyed her body for a few moments, more wishing to sketch the beauty in a way that would leave Leonardo DiCaprio jealous. He regained his composure and recalled his masseuse training then gently took hold of her right nylon-clad foot and started firmly applying pressure. His fingers raced up and down the soles of her foot. He knew she trusted him fully but he wanted to make it a moment she would never forget. He could feel the hardened tension as he moved from her right foot to the left foot. He remarked, "how does this feel?" hoping he was living up to her expectations.
"Like heaven," Nessa murmured, dangerously close to a moan of pure pleasure. She thought about asking him to come to her next booking right then simply so that she could enjoy his attentions like this afterwards but she held her tongue for the moment.
Michel smiled and cautiously worked away at her tightened calf muscle. He was gentle, knowing any extra pressure might cause a serious knot which would lead to pain and muscle aggravation. He gently stroked it, then moved on to her right knee, massaging her ligaments carefully. "I figured this would be just the thing you needed to fix you up. I have a lot more planned. Maybe dinner after this. Depends," he massaged her left foot making sure to do his finest work on the arch of her foot and on the toes which took the most pressure from her fast movement in the ring. He smiled as he pressed down on her toes – he knew so well exactly where all the tension was as though it had been mapped instinctively.
"Oh, Michel," Nessa's eyes were still closed, one hand clasping the towel that lay over her chest. "That feels amazing." Before she could think it over fully or stop herself, she blurted out the question, "are you free to come to Mexico? My next match," she sighed, "our next match will be on the 30th. In Guadalajara… wherever that is – a team match. Against," she cleared her throat, "the so-called King of Finland and his twin brother. It won't be that great but-"
"Yes!" That boyish grin was back when she opened her eyes and it warmed her heart, "yes, my love. I'd love to! Some great flying to take in. Been thinking of… I dunno… getting my manager's license to manage you in the ring? Then we'd be together all the time. Sharing our own room together. The schedule doesn't seem like it would get in the way of my flying. And besides… Mexico is very beautiful this time of year."
She could only imagine how outraged Matt would be at the prospect but she couldn't keep herself from returning that grin. Celebrating under the stars on some Mexico beach with Michel seemed like paradise in the best way. "I'll have to talk to Matthew about that. Eventually."
"Hmm," Michel let the subject drop and turned back to the task at hand, "these have to come off. I'll be gentle, " he moved to the waistband of Nessa's nylons. They had complimented her figure so elegantly. To him she was perfection – owner of the best legs any man living could dream of. He watched Nessa's eyes light up as he slowly peeled them from her body. He dropped some feverish kisses below her navel and her right hip as he exposed Nessa's bare flesh underneath, "vous êtes une déesse ... j'aime vous tous." His training in the Air Force had definitely come in handy. He massaged her calf muscles deeper and could finally feel the tension easing off. He peeled the nylons further down her legs, symbolically as if he were stripping away her fears and trepidation.
"Sweetie…" a thousand things flashed through her head. She wanted to make a joke about his French sweet nothings but all she could see was Frankie Starlight's hand raised in victory, ruining the moment. Beyond that was the dark cloud of Matt's actions – completely out of character for him. Something was wrong but she forced it away with effort. Michel deserved better. "I…" she licked her lips, "I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds great." She paused.
Great?! That's the best you can do? Some genius you are.
Licking her lips, she shifted tracks. "Where have you been all my life?"
Michel smiled broadly, overwhelmed by the emotion he was feeling – his heart pounded like a military drum, a cadence he'd never felt before sweeping him away. He removed the nylon from her foot, gently kissing under her right heel. Then he removed the sweaty material from her left foot, feverishly kissing each of her toes before gently taking the nylons to place them on a hook on the wall to keep them from getting snagged. He knew the question didn't require an answer but he still murmured his innermost secret. "Watching you from afar, wishing I was the one to share your mornings, your sunsets with." Michel kept his eyes downcast, afraid of what he might see in her face, paying attention to her arches and toes, eliciting more groans and moans from the petite blonde.
"Does it feel better?"
She looked up at him, her blue eyes glowing with happiness – she'd never looked so beautiful, even with her blonde hair soaked in sweat. He leaned over and gently kissed her lips, surprised when she reached up and tangled a hand in his hair, pulling him in deeper.
"Much better," she whispered when the kiss broke. "So much better."
